


Any Girl Like You Deserves a Gentleman

by NightCourt_HighLady



Series: A Court of Lyrics and Melodies [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9548105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightCourt_HighLady/pseuds/NightCourt_HighLady
Summary: Feyre is in The House of the Wind for her week. Rhysand is trying to forget his troubles dancing at Rita's with his friends. Then he hears the song and realizes how much better he would be for Feyre if only she'd give him the chance.Songfic for Treat You Better by Shawn Mendes





	

**Author's Note:**

> This says it's part of a series, but it is a series of one-shots and these can all be read alone. They're unrelated to each other besides the fact that they are all Feysand!
> 
> This fic is a birthday gift for my little sister. Happy 18th little Bugg! Welcome to adulthood <3

He hated keeping her locked up in that house **.** He hated it, but he couldn't bring her here to his beloved Velaris. She would tell her betrothed. Or whatever they were now in the months since he'd broken off their wedding. But he couldn't trust her yet. He wanted to, but he couldn't. 

It was hard. He knew that the best way to show her that he truly wasn't what she thought was to show her Velaris. Show her the light and life that he had sold himself body and soul for out of love.

Prove to his Feyre that he wasn't a soulless monster.

No.

Not his Feyre.

_Tamlin's._

And that fact alone was why he'd actually left her at the house for the time being. He needed space from the living wraith that his beautiful mate had become. He couldn't stand to just sit there and watch her fall apart, and really, since she'd become so good at shielding, he didn't have to. But she always left him looking a tiny bit better. A tiny bit happier. A tiny bit more peaceful. 

She was always worse when she came back though.

One step forward and three steps back. 

Rhys shook his head, trying to bring himself back to the present. Back to his friends, his family, his inner circle. Back to the dancing and the pretty girls who were trying so hard to win him. 

He wondered if he could bear to bed one. Maybe that's what it would take. Maybe that would get Feyre to  _realize_ what they were. What he was to her. What their bond was. What it felt like to know your mate took another to their bed. 

Luckily for his sanity, most noticed his mood and kept their flirting or chatting to a minimum.

Mor looked at him in concern, and he pressed a pained smile to his face. He needed to forget about Feyre for the night.

And then the music changed.

_I won't lie to you_  
_I know he's just not right for you_

Tamlin was all wrong for her. She was a hawk. A predator of the sky, born to fly. And he was a hunter leashing her with jesses and hoods, caging her in a gilded prison. Breaking her spirit and calling it love. Keeping her from soaring to new heights. Perhaps he feared that she'd leave him behind on the ground. 

_And you can tell me if I'm off_  
_But I see it on your face_  
_When you say that he's the one that you want_

That day in the study. He had lied to her, he'd seen everything. When he first felt anything coming from the bond, his first instinct was relief. And then he was sucked into her mind, trapped in her fear, suppressing thousands of years worth of instincts to keep from instantly winnowing to her side.

If she hadn't been so powerful, he would have killed her right there. Killed her for trying to help them both.

And she still wanted him.

_And you're spending all your time_  
_In this wrong situation_  
_And anytime you want it to stop_  
  
_I know I can treat you better than he can_  
_And any girl like you deserves a gentleman_

That's all he wanted was a chance. He wanted a chance to give Feyre, beautiful, strong, brilliant Feyre, everything she deserved. He wanted a chance to put her on a bloody pedestal and worship her like the goddess she was. And he wanted her to  _know_ it. He wanted her to  _own_ it. He wanted her to look into his eyes and see that she was perfect. That she was enough. That she was  _more_ than enough.

_Tell me why are we wasting time_  
_On all your wasted crying_

He wished Feyre would cry sometimes. She was just so... Empty. She was empty and didn't even care who knew anymore.

_When you should be with me instead_  
_I know I can treat you better_  
_Better than he can_

She was a sleek, beautiful falcon born to fly. He just wanted to show her how.  
  
_I'll stop time for you_  
_The second you say you'd like me to_  
_I just wanna give you the loving that you're missing_

He was at her beck and call. Literally. He would give her anything she could think to ask for and so much that she'd never know. The first time he saw her at that blasted wedding, he just wanted to give her a hug. She looked starved, and not just for food. She looked starved for human contact. 

_Baby, just to wake up with you_  
_Would be everything I need and this could be so different_  
_Tell me what you want to do_

He wanted to take her into his arms and just hold her close to him. Hold her until he could reassure himself that she was safe and loved and happy.  
  
_'Cause I know I can treat you better than he can_  
_And any girl like you deserves a gentleman_

When he saw that hideous wedding dress, he was shocked at how much it shook him. He underestimated how much he wished that it was  _him_ that she was waiting for. Which was foolish. She hated him. She had no idea of all that he'd done, all that he'd risked in keeping her safe and alive. She just knew that he was a living, breathing reminder of the worst of the hell she found Under the Mountain. And that he'd taken advantage of a sick, dying human girl to force her to live with him for a week every month.

_Tell me why are we wasting time_  
_On all your wasted crying_  
_When you should be with me instead_  
_I know I can treat you better_  
_Better than he can_  
  
_Better than he can_

That wasn't  _him_ though. Rhysand badly wished that he could show Feyre that the male that the rest of the world knew wasn't the true Rhys. 

That who he truly was would love and cherish her as she deserved.  
  
_Give me a sign_  
_Take my hand, we'll be fine_  
_Promise I won't let you down_

He never would. Even if he was waiting for her for the rest of eternity. Even if he had to watch her wed and bed Tamlin for the next five centuries. He'd always be waiting for her. He'd never stop waiting. And hoping. 

_Just know that you don't_  
_Have to do this alone_  
_Promise I'll never let you down_

His mate. His beautiful mate, just as broken as he was. Two broken souls that needed each other to heal. A painter who can't paint and a dreamer having nightmares.   
  
_'Cause I know I can treat you better than he can_  
_And any girl like you deserves a gentleman_  
_Tell me why are we wasting time_  
_On all your wasted crying_  
_When you should be with me instead_  
_I know I can treat you better_  
_Better than he can_  
  
_Better than he can_  
  
_Better than he can_

As the song tapered off, Rhysand stood up and walked out. Ignoring Mor, Cassian, and Azriel, he walked down the street a ways before leaping in the air and flying back to the House of Wind. 

When he got back, he noticed that there was a light in the library. Upon investigation, he found Feyre asleep in a window seat with a book having fallen to the floor near her.

To his sadness, she wasn't peaceful even in her sleep. She slept curled up into a little ball, as though even in her sleep she couldn't keep the shattered pieces of herself together without help. There was a wrinkle in between her eyebrows that he longed to smooth away.

Greatly daring, he placed a gentle hand on her soft bronze hair. She didn't flinch or wake, so he gently began to stroke her hair. To his surprise and delight, her body slowly relaxed in his presence. As though when unconscious, she knew what he was. After a few moments, she was curled up on the couch sleeping normally. 

Ever so gently, he picked her up, easily cradling her too light form. His whole body froze in horror when he did. Her spine was knobby against his right arm, sticking so far out that he worried that it would break her skin. As he had dreamed of doing for so long, he held her close. He let his body heat warm her, and his heartbeat soothe her sleeping form. He pressed his cheek against her hair, unable to stop the tear that fell from one of his eyes. He was shaking slightly with repressed sobs. He buried his face in her hair for a moment, letting her scent (Cauldron he could still smell Tamlin on her but her own scent overpowered it enough that he could ignore it) calm him.

Once he was calm, he walked her down the hall to her room. Flicking the covers back with a tendril of darkness, Rhys gently placed his sleeping mate on her bed and tucked her in. It was the least she deserved. Pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, he turned and walked out of the room.

That night, Rhysand cried himself to sleep as his heart and soul cried out for Feyre.

His Feyre.

Even though she wasn't.


End file.
